


spaghetti rain

by unnagi



Category: Joker Game (Anime)
Genre: Adulthood, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, like..they're like around 21 y/o
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-14
Updated: 2017-10-14
Packaged: 2019-01-17 04:45:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12357759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unnagi/pseuds/unnagi
Summary: Like a short visit to the florist, it was over too soon.





	spaghetti rain

**Author's Note:**

> set around the 70s ^o^

Still in thought, Hatano lit a cigarette with practiced hand motions, and lazily gazed out the window. A half-eaten moon was on the rise, and the winter sky glowed under a fogged-up blue film. Just as though someone had exhaled onto a glass panel. A dim glimmer flickered in his pupils as the cars passed through the street.

 

A heavy rain was pouring outside. Each raindrop seemed to have taken its own form, like thin strands of spaghetti falling right out of the sky. It was a slow and persistent kind of rain. As though the sky decided to run a marathon. On a humid day too, out of all other days. But it must have faded off somewhere in the world, it couldn’t possibly be raining through the whole country. And where did it end? Jitsui wondered.

 

They were seated by the corner of an 24-hour cafe, with a heavy, strong light looming over their table. The kind of economic cafe with little concern for ambience, a cheap menu and scratched plates. The clatter and clinks of glasses and cutlery droned over quiet conversations, a few students were already in deep sleep, their heads facing down and arms draping across the table.

 

Earlier that day, they had met near a train station, each holding a bouquet of flowers. Despite the warmness, thick, dense clouds were plastered across the grey sky, like dollops of cream. Jitsui had never spent much time with his parents, so visiting had felt like a formality (but death might just be a formality too, said Hatano). Looking down at their joint tombstones, he could only wonder what sort of person he was supposed to be, but that was that. It was near the end of spring, too. A full, voluminous sense of warmth started to permeate in the air.

 

“Life is just all _forever_ this, _forever_ that, then _bang!_ You’re dead...” Hatano stared into the glass. Whenever he needed to search for the right words, he glanced down at his glass of soda, as though all the answers in the universe would bubble through to the top. “Drilling on about this stuff is going to kill us, don’t you think?” He looked back up, fingertips drumming on the table. His lips were on the edge of a smirk, and an apathetic tone carried his every word, as usual.

 

“Hm. More or less,” said Jitsui. He wore an easy-going smile, dark pupils acutely meeting Hatano’s half-lidded gaze. “Perception can exceed thought like that,” he added. “Some things are real because you can feel it, and it does no harm to assume that it is, real. Other things you have to treat like a fruitless, inconsequential apple tree.”

 

“And that’s all there is to it.”

 

“As far as we can tell.”

 

The rain continued, beating against the roof as though a bag of coins had dropped from the sky. Neon signs melted into the raindrops as they slipped down the windows, glowing brighter than the moon. Hatano had finished the rest of the soda. He held up the glass and trivially inspected the remaining ice cubes. Nothing too special about them.

 

“You feel like heading out now?” he ventured to ask.

 

“Why not.” Jitsui could tell he was getting bored.

 

He pressed the cigarette down into the ashtray and stood up. Jitsui followed him out.

 

“So?”

 

“So what?”

 

A wet breeze brushed across their skins. Jitsui opened an umbrella, holding it up to cover both of their heads. Hatano reached an arm to grab hold of the handle, making Jitsui let go, and began walking along the street.

 

“Where’re we going?” Jitsui asked again, placing one hand into the pocket of his coat.

 

“Doesn’t matter.” He shrugged lightly.

 

“Does anything matter to you?”

 

Hatano took one look at the other, his face quickly growing as red as the insides of a strawberry. “Well yeah. Of course.”

 

“Really?”

 

“Uh-huh,” he deadpanned, and leaned in to kiss Jitsui. After a brief moment, he had pulled himself away. Like a short visit to the florist, it was over too soon.

 

“Um. Let’s go home,” he decided.

 

Jitsui's lips curled up in amusement. A rare glint of mischief appeared in his otherwise innocent smile. “Good. The night is still young."

 

“So it is..."

**Author's Note:**

> we all know why hatano wants to go home ;)))
> 
> i want to continue this but who knows when i'll write again so for now this is completed, thank you for reading!


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